


Semi-Automatic

by Mellorine



Series: Mafia AU Verse [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Mafia AU, Other, Spark Sex, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 17:05:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3537320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellorine/pseuds/Mellorine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One deal leads to another, and Whirl and Rung end up out of their depth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I can’t do it for less than a thousand shanix," Swindle toyed with Blurr’s wheel-pedes as he scrolled through a datapad. "Beg me all you like, that number ain’t changing."

"Aw, Swindle. Swin, Swinny, gorgeous purple-opticked light of my spark, don’t do this to me!" Whirl pleaded. "I got business to do, how’m I supposed to keep my sweetspark here in the lap o’ luxury when I got you tryna rip me off like this?"

Rung managed not to roll his optics as Whirl wrapped an arm around him and squeezed him close. Lap of luxury indeed. Although he had to admit, this bar was a good sight more refined than Swerve’s. Rung took a sip of his drink, smiling in contentment. He hadn’t indulged like this since -. Well, in a long while. And the company this time around was much better anyway. 

Speaking of, Whirl was still at it. “Hey Blurr, help a pal out for old times’ sake, willya? Get your fragpal to cut us some slack here.”

Blurr snorted from where he was reclined on the booth seat, pedes up in Swindle’s lap. “I’d rather keep those fragpal privileges, thank you. By which I mean,” his voice turned syrupy sweet, “oh, whatever do you mean? My Swindle would never cheat a soul!”

"See?" Swindle sat back smugly. "Completely objective testimonial. So? You want the goods or not?"

"Swindle, you know I don’t got that kinda scratch just lyin’ around. But if I get these upgrades I can start pullin’ the big jobs and you’ll get your shanix. I swear."

That gave Rung an idea. “If I may,” Swindle’s large optics looked over at him. “I don’t suppose  _you_  have anything you might need done? We’re between jobs at the moment, as it happens…”

"Hmm," Swindle grinned. "I  _like_ this one, Whirl. Please tell me you’re keeping him around.”

"Frag yeah," Whirl snorted. "Ain’t that right, babe? You ain’t gettin’ tired of me, are ya?" 

"Never," said Rung, lifting his drink so Whirl could take a sip. For once in his function he was thankful for the composure he’d learned to maintain over the years, as the combination of engex and Whirl pressed up against him had his spark whirling in his chest. But Swindle’s optics weren’t just for show; the mech noticed everything, Whirl had warned, and weakness got you back on the streets quicker than you could imagine.

"Aw, cute," said Blurr. "Who would have thought, tough guy Whirl, finally getting somewhere in life. And here I was, worried about you when you decided to quit the Wreckers."

"Ahh, nah, no one wants to hear that slag," Whirl waved a claw at Blurr, jostling Rung. "C’mon, let’s hash out the details of this gig."

"Right down to business! A mech after my own spark." Swindle waved over a server. "Let’s get those drinks refilled. This might take a while. I like to be  _very_ thorough when it comes to business dealings.”

 

* * *

  

Rung sipped his drink, watching Whirl and Swindle as they pored over a catalogue. Terms had been negotiated, and now it was time to take care of, as Whirl put it, ‘the fun stuff.’ Rung would be lying if he said he wasn’t more than a little apprehensive about the job Swindle had convinced them to take, but seeing Whirl so excited over the things they’d be able to afford with this lifted a weight off his chest. Maybe if there was a little extra they could get some things for their apartment. Whirl had been passing it off as him just being naturally clingy, but Rung knew their berth was simply too small for two mechs, even when one was as small as him. 

A tug at his servo drew his attention to Blurr. “You’re looking a little low there. Let’s top you off.” Blurr dragged him out of the booth and they headed over to the bar.

"You should see your face when you’re looking at that copter," said Blurr. "Maybe I should take some pictures. Think there’d be a market for that?"

Rung laughed. “Please don’t. Whirl would spend all our savings.”

"All right, I’ll spare you for now." Blurr hopped over the bar. "How do you like your poison? Sweet? Sour? Acidic? You strike me as the kind of guy who’d go for something with a curly straw, but I can also see maybe some Nightmare Fuel when you’re feeling wild?"

"Oh, I like what I’ve been drinking." Rung waved his glass.

Blurr shook his helm. “Oh, no, no, no, I’m not letting you out of my bar only having tried one drink. Here, try this.”

Rung took a sip. Oh, this  _was_  good. “Wait, this is your bar? I’m sorry, I had no idea. It’s lovely.”

"Isn’t it? Took me a long time, but it was worth it. Swindle helped too," Blurr leaned in and whispered, "but don’t ever let him know I told you. He has to keep up appearances." 

"It’ll be our secret. So," Rung rolled his next words around on his glossa. He didn’t want to pry, but the question had been burning in his mind for the past joor. "you and Whirl know each other?"

Blurr gave him an appraising look. “You could say that. He hasn’t said anything?”

"No, we,"  _how to put this…._  “We tend not to talk history very much.”

"Mmm, yeah, Swindle gets the same way sometimes. I think he’s convinced himself he’s done unforgivable things." Blurr rolled his optics. "Like there’s such a thing."

Rung stared into his drink and hummed noncommittally. Maybe those doors were better left closed. He could forgive Whirl anything; he knew, for all the tangled problems snarling the helicopter’s spark, its core was true. His own spark though…

Blurr was giving him a concerned look. “You don’t get maudlin when you’re overcharged, do you? Here, turn your audials up, let me tell you all about your sweetspark’s sordid past.” 

He vaulted back over to Rung’s side of the bar. “He told you about The Wreckers?”

Rung shook his head.

"Well - and this was vorns ago - me and Whirl used to run with this gang, we called ourselves The Wreckers. It was us two, Kup, Springer, Roadbuster, a handful of other guys, and Impactor. Impactor fancied himself the leader but he was always butting up against Springer about that, and I wish I could show you the strutting contests they use to have. I always figured they were fragging, but then Impactor had this old miner buddy of his he was always swooning about, so I don’t know. Anyway, we carved out this nice little corner of the city for ourselves and did the usual - protection, a bit of theft, a bunch of roughhousing with those Squadron X fraggers. Whirl’s got his own reasons for leaving, you’d have to ask him because honestly I don’t understand why he does half the things he does, and anyway by that time I’d set up my own thing with Swin and I was mostly outta that scene."

Blurr stretched his frame and knocked back the rest of the drink. “I hear he got into some slag with Impactor, but everyone got into some slag with Impactor sooner or later.”

Rung nodded numbly. Was it the sudden influx of information, or the engex that was making his head spin? “You certainly know how to tell a story quickly,” he said.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that," Blurr laughed. "You should see me in the berth, I’m even worse. Can’t shut me up, at least not without a little extra help." He leaned in an purred in Blurr’s audial. "You wanna see?"

Rung’s spark swirled in his chest, and he glanced over to where Whirl and Swindle were still engrossed in their shopping. “I wouldn’t want to upset your partner,” he ventured.

"Well, you’ve met Swindle. Cheating’s in his code. And me, I’m a bit too fast for just one mech. Got a lot of charge to burn off, you know?" Blurr breathed into Rung’s audial.

Rung grinned into Blurr’s collar. “It sounds like you might have a medical problem.”

"Ha! Oh, Swin was right, we’re  _definitely_ keeping you. Whirl!” he shouted. “You better take good care of this one, or I’m gonna snap him up!”

"Don’t you fraggin’ dare, Blurr, or I’ll have these claws so far up your aft I’ll be shakin’ servos with yer fragpal’s spike next time ya blow ‘im!"

"Sounds fun," sang Blurr. "Yeah, I’m think I’m gonna have to keep you two around, teach you a trick or two."

Rung raised an eyebrow. “Who says you’ll be doing the teaching?”


	2. Chapter 2

The door crashed closed after them as Rung and Whirl stumbled into their room. The evening at Blurr’s bar had gone on  _way_ longer than either of them had anticipated, and they’d finally begged out. 

"Just get your helms back on straight by the time my gig rolls around. Two days. You back out and you ain’t seeing a single piece of that merchandise," Swindle had warned them on the way out.

"Yeah yeah, you can count on us." Whirl had waved him off and, Rung safely tucked under one arm, headed home.

Whirl wished he was half as confident about the job as he sounded. It was a lousy deal, but not getting completely and utterly fragged by Swindle was still a win in his book. And just think of the  _guns_ he’d get out of it…

He looked down at Rung, who’d sprawled face first on their berth the second they’d come inside. “Hey babe, you thought about what you wanna get with the scratch we make from this gig?”

"A softer berth," Rung mumbled. 

"Yeah, I bet you’d like that," Whirl snorted and laid down around the smaller mech. "So what’d ya think of Blurr and Swindle? Swindle can be a real fragger when he wants to, but Blurr keeps ‘im in check some."

"Mmm." Rung twisted around to curl up underneath Whirl’s cockpit. "Blurr was a wonderful host. He told me the two of you go way back."

"Yeah?" Whirl asked as nonchalantly as he could manage. "I bet he told you all sorts of things."

"Not really," Rung said. "Mostly about how you were both in the same gang."

 _Frag._  Frag Blurr and his stupid fraggin’ mouth. “You shouldn’t believe everything he says, y’know?” Whirl laughed, and winced at how hollow it sounded to his own audials. “Bot’s got a bad habit of lettin’ his mouth run, doesn’t even know what he’s talkin’ about half the time, and do we really gotta talk about this right now?”

"Of course not." Rung kissed the underside of Whirl’s cockpit. "But if we did, no matter what you said, or what Blurr said, or what anyone said, you know I’d still love you, right?"

Whirl tightened his grip. “Yeah,” he said. Sure, he knew Rung believed his own words. Didn’t mean he’d feel the same once he knew every nasty detail. 

"I could show you," Rung murmured, taking Whirl’s servo and pressing it to his chest. "Let me show you."

Whirl’s vents stalled. “Don’t say that. You don’t mean that.”

"I do mean it. But only if you want to." 

"I can’t -" Whirl’s voice broke. 

"Okay, that’s okay," Rung was quick to say. "We don’t have to."

"No, no that’s not what I mean, just shut up and let me talk!"  _Primus fragging Unicron_ , he was making this worse but if he didn’t fraggin’ say this  _now_  he’d never say it. 

"I can’t, the - the empurata." He barked a laugh. "You see this fraggin’ cockpit, how you think I’m supposed to do anything like this! Can’t even access my fraggin’ spark from the front no more, ‘cause who’d wanna sparkfrag an empurata vic, right? So," he took a deep vent.  _Just say it_. “So if you really wanna, you gotta go in through my back. Or we could just recharge and maybe in the morning we’ll have forgot this whole fraggin’ conversation.”

Rung wriggled up to look Whirl in the optic. “If you really want to, I would be honored.”

Whirl ducked his head. “Aw, eyebrows, why are you such a sweetspark? I’m the one who should be on his hands and knees just beggin’ for you to even look at me.”

"No, no, no," Rung lifted Whirl’s chin and kissed his helm. "Whirl, no. None of us are perfect. Primus knows my spark has its own share of darkness. But  _I love you_. Please, let me show you.” Rung rolled over Whirl and embraced him from behind. “I’m not sure how…”

"Yeah, just," Whirl’s fans clicked on audibly, "gimme a sec, okay?"

He hadn’t tried doing this since the first awful days after his surgery, when he’d been tripping over himself trying and failing to make sure everything still worked the same. But the code was still there, even if the gears were a little rusty. Something clicked and his back plating shifted, layers irising open to spill light out behind him.

"Well?" he asked, nervous when Rung didn’t say anything. "Everything okay back there?"

"Yes," came the whispered reply. "Whirl, it’s  _beautiful_.” 

Whirl heard a faint snick and the shifting of plating. “Hey,” he said, twisting around. “No fair, I wanna see yours too.”

 _Oh._  A whirling sphere of golden light hovered in Rung’s chest, so brightthat Whirl’s optic automatically cycled down to a pinpoint. ”It’s,” he tentatively reached out with a claw, and snatched it back, “it’s so  _big_.”

Rung laughed. “It’s the normal size! What were you expecting?”

"I dunno, I mean, you’re so tiny I thought you’d have a tiny one to match?" Frag, that sounded stupid now that he said it. 

"You can touch it if you like." Rung took hold of Whirl’s servo.

Whirl’s claws twitched.”I - really? Are you sure? It ain’t gonna hurt you, is it?”

"On the contrary," Rung said and pulled Whirl’s servo toward him. 

Whirl slowly reached out and tapped Rung’s spark with the tip of one claw, and Rung gasped and grabbed Whirl’s arm.

Whirl froze. “You okay?”

"Yes, I -," Rung vented heavily. "Don’t stop."

"Oh.  _Ohhhh,”_ okay,  _now_ Whirl got it,  _”_ well why didn’t you say so sooner?” he leered, and scraped the edge of his claw against Rung’s spark. Tendrils of energy clung to his claw like living things, snapping back as he moved his claw. “Woah, that’s  _so cool._ ”

"You’ve never done sparkplay before?" Rung breathed.

Whirl shook his helm. “Just regular sparkfraggin’. And that was ages ago anyway. Rung, this is  _amazing_.” He scythed his claws back and forth, watching the spark energy jump from claw to claw. 

"Mmmm." Rung clung to Whirl’s arm and reached up to kiss the side of his helm. "You want me to touch yours?" he whispered into Whirl’s audial.

"Frag yeah." Whirl shuffled onto his side. His back itched and he had to override his systems from closing his spark plating. This was Rung. He could trust Rung. "You sure you’re okay with this?"

Rung snaked an arm around Whirl’s middle. “Only if you are.”

Deep vents. “Yeah. Okay.”

His vents hitched as he felt  _something._ Like a tickle, or a servo tweaking every wire in his frame at the same time. Then a shuddering scraping feeling that raced out from his core to the tips of his claws.

"Ohh, whatever that was, do it again," he moaned.

A chuckle. “I can do that.”

Another burning rush of charge had his claws twitching reflexively. This was -  _this_  was what he’d been missing? Frag, he’d be doing this every chance he got from now on. He groaned as Rung tweaked something, sending another crackle through Whirl’s systems. 

"Rung, I -. I want -." His vents gusted hot air as he arched into Rung’s touch. "Just,  _guuhhh_ , just frag me already, would ya?”

"Well, when you put it like that…." Whirl could hear the smile in Rung’s voice. 

He twitched as the sensations running through his spark dissipated.  _Oh, slag._  Deep vents. “Hey, you sure this is gonna work okay? Maybe they fragged me up with that surgery, I mean I ain’t done this in forever so, I dunno, I probably can’t even do a regular sparkmerge no more.” 

"I’m sure you’re perfectly fine," soothed Rung. "But we really don’t have to go through with this. Only if you want to."

A sensor echo hummed through his spark. Frag him to the pit and back, he wanted this, he wanted  _Rung_. “You’re not gonna go regrettin’ this on me, are ya?”

"Never." Rung reached around and took Whirl’s servo in his own. "Are you ready?"

Deep vents. “Yeah.”

He felt the cool metal of Rung’s chest plating on his back, then a faint pulling sensation. “Is it wo-,” Whirl’s vocalizer cut off as heat spun out from his core, enveloping him in a warm glow. If he could just reach out a bit more -.

Whirl’s optic whited out in a flash. He could only peripherally hear Rung gasping behind him, but he could  _feel_  everything. 

Rung was a whirling, blinding maelstrom of light, and without thinking Whirl threw himself into it. 

\----

_"Just do your job," a large mech with six sensor wings hiked high up on his back snarls and marches out of the room  
_

_Rung sits limply in a chair, and Whirl can feel the emotions at war inside him - the urge to simply do as he’s told, the desire to help, the circuit-deep knowledge that he can’t keep doing what he’s doing, that what he’s doing is_ wrong -.

 _The vision collapses and all Whirl wants to do is reach out and tell Rung it’s okay, it’ll all be okay, he always does the right thing so he shouldn’t worry so much, but everything shimmers into golden light_   _and he’s swept away with it._

_\----_

_A silver mech scrambles back against the cell wall, and Whirl watches himself stalk closer._

_No no no no this isn’t something he wants Rung to see, he needs to get out of here, he needs Rung to_ leave _._

_The silver mech grunts in pain and the world implodes._

_\----_

_Rung is a bundle of nerves as he sits hunched over a model kit._

_"Hey eyebrows! Looks like it’s you and me! Ready to take a ride on the whirlybird?" Whirl follows Rung’s optics to see himself strutting over, and he wants nothing more than to be able to smack himself right in the optic. So much slag could’ve been avoided if he hadn’t been such a fragging aft…_

_Everything melts away, but Whirl knows it’ll all be okay._

_\----_

_Blue servos tinker with a chronometer’s inner workings._

_A bell chimes, signalling the arrival of customers._

_A crash, and everything disappears._

_\----_

Whirl slammed back into consciousness as a hot spear of energy pierced his spark. Frantic, he sent pulses of concern and apology across the merge. He didn’t mean for that to happen, he didn’t mean for Rung to see any of that, he’d tried  _so fragging hard_ to keep all that scrap away from him and now that he’d fragged it up everything would fall apart.

Warmth bloomed across the merge, unfurling in Whirl’s spark, and he reached out towards it. _Rung_. He could feel Rung inside him, and himself inside Rung, and he clung to the soothing reassurance that pulsed between them.  _Nothing was over. Everything was all right._ His very core itched with the burning need for  _more_ , and he sent another pulse, harder, that was echoed back at him, back and forth, until his frame was on fire.

He could barely feel Rung clinging to him, barely hear the sound of their fans roaring to suck in cool air, but he could feel every surge of spark energy that leapt between them, building up in their sparks as they spun faster and brighter, and he could feel every circuit in Rung singing for him, and his sang back.

White-hot overload tore through his circuits, and Whirl crashed into stasis.

 

* * *

  

He onlined to find Rung still asleep, echoes of warmth still curling through his spark.

"Heh, you’re too fraggin’ perfect, you know that?" he whispered, and curled up around Rung and slipped back into recharge.


	3. Chapter 3

Whirl had known Vortex for all of twenty breems and already he hated the guy.

Swindle was going on about “choreography” and “proper timing” and some other slag, but Whirl couldn’t stop staring at the fragger. With his stupid servos and his stupid visor and always shuffling his stupid rotors at Rung, like Whirl didn’t know what  _that_ meant. Lousy fragger.

"Hey!" Swindle snapped his fingers at Whirl. "You better be paying attention. If you frag this up for me that’s it. Deal’s off."

Whirl snorted. “Please, this’ll be a walk in the park. You think I don’t know how to get roughed up some? It’s practically my entire fraggin’ job description, so how ‘bout you lay off, huh? Go focus on Rung, he’s about shakin’ outta his plating.”

"Whirl,  _please_ ,” Rung hissed. “This is dangerous, and I don’t want to you getting hurt.” A conflicted look crossed his face. “I don’t want you getting hurt anymore than you have to.”

"Oh, you don’t gotta worry about a thing." Whirl’s optic creased in a grin. Frag, but it was cute how concerned Rung got. Not that he  _wanted_  Rung to worry. Anyway, he’d slip into the role easy enough, Whirl was sure. And this time they had  _professional_  backup. He turned his grin on Vortex. “You’ll take care of me, right ‘Tex?”

 

* * *

 

Whirl howled as Vortex jammed the shockrod at the base of his spinal strut. Was that overdoing it? Frag, that was probably overdoing it. He toned it down to a whimper. 

"You going to tell me yet, or do I need to get more  _imaginative?_ " Vortex said, circling around where Whirl hung chained to the ceiling. Whirl eyed the one-way mirror set into the wall. Way too early. Turmoil’d never fall for it if he cracked so soon.

"Go frag yerself," he spat.

"Suit yourself." Vortex ran the shockrod up Whirl’s spinal strut and he spat static. 

Frag, but this was boring. Whirl was really having to play it up. Sure, the shockrod hurt a little, but not nearly enough as they were both acting.

For now all Vortex had to do was hurt him a little so he could cry and scream a whole bunch, so that when Rung finally “cracked”, Turmoil would believe his spiel about where Swindle’s weapons deal would be, so Swindle could spring that trap and get rid of a rival, so they’d get paid and Whirl could get his guns and Rung could get that cushy berth padding he’d been pining after.

Easy stuff.

Vortex came around to Whirl’s front and tapped his cockpit with the shockrod. “You got a spark under there? You want me to pay some attention to it?” He pulled Whirl’s helm down to whisper in his audial. “It doesn’t have to hurt, you know. I can make it good for you. Just tell me what I want to know.”

"Get smelted." Whirl narrowed his optic. Fraggin’  _gross._

"Oh, too bad," Vortex pouted. "Are you saving yourself? Wanna stay pure for your pretty little toy?"

"Jealous?” Whirl sneered.

Vortex laughed and threw the shockrod across the room. “All right, you want to play hard to get?” He walked over to his toolkit. “Let’s see, let’s see…you’ve got those pathetic claws instead of proper servos, so this is no good….” He looked up and cocked his helm. “Just how fond are you of that optic?”

 

* * *

 

Rung kept his vents steady as he watched from the other side of the one-way mirror.

Whirl would be fine. Repairs for Whirl had been part of the deal they’d worked out with Swindle. So Whirl would be fine; Rung would whisk him off to see Ambulon right after this, and then take him home to hit him over the helm until he explained what in the world ever convinced him this was a reasonable plan.

Turmoil shifted his stance behind Rung’s seat and placed a servo on his shoulder.

Rung kept his vents steady.

 

* * *

 

Whirl let out a binary screech just as Vortex finished chipping out Whirl’s optic glass. Ooh, and that was a good one too. He’d have to practice that one later. You never knew when a good ‘I’m in too much pain to vocalize properly’ shriek could come in handy. 

"That all you got?" he rasped, his optic input frizting. "I thought you were supposed to be, _ugh_ , good at this slag.”

"This is just the foreplay, sweetspark." Vortex reached up and caressed the side of Whirl’s helm. His servo tapped out a rhythm:  _Soon. Ten breems or less._  

Ten breems. Like he was supposed to keep track of ten breems with a busted chronometer. “Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your foreplay game sucks.”

Vortex’s visor flashed, and his fingers tapped again:  _I can make it longer, you know._  “Then I’ll just have to skip to the main event.”

He reached into Whirl’s optical cavity, found some loose wiring, and pulled.

Whirl didn’t have to fake it that time.

 

* * *

 

Whirl’s howls of pain echoed tinnily through the intercom. Rung hadn’t moved an inch. He’d kept his ventilations even and slow. He hadn’t flinched, even when Turmoil rested a servo on his shoulder. Even when he could see bare wiring sparking in Whirl’s optical cavity.

Whirl would be  _so proud_.

Well, he’d had plenty of practice remaining stoic in the face of -

He flinched away from that thought.

Turmoil tightened his grip on Rung’s shoulder, and Rung clenched his fists, digitips scratching into his palm. It wasn’t time yet. He had to wait for the signal, meticulously planned by Swindle and Vortex and Whirl, all according to some algorithm that was seeming more and more ridiculous by the second.

Soon. Almost. Soon.

Turmoil reached out in from of Rung and pressed a button. “Stop,” His voice sounded over the intercom, and Rung slumped in instinctive relief, then froze. Wait. No. No no no,  _this wasn’t in the plan_. “You come with good recommendations, Vortex, and it’s easy to see why. But I can’t help but wonder why you’re wasting your energy on _him_ when you have a much softer target right here.”

Rung’s spark went cold as he watched Vortex stiffen beyond the glass. “I know how to do my job,” the interrogator said.

"I’m sure you do," Turmoil said. "But please, indulge me."

"Look, it’s my plating on the line here.” Vortex’s voice was rising, and Rung silently begged him to calm down. “You think Swindle’s gonna be happy if I frag this up and he finds out I double-crossed him? You let me do things my way and we’ll both be rich."

"Vortex," Turmoil’s was unyielding. "I believe you’ve misinterpreted the nature of our partnership. You will focus your attentions on  _this_ one.”

 

* * *

 

Whirl choked back a whimper as the bindings around his arms loosened. Finally. Over. Last time he trusted Vortex to do anything right. He was ready to just slip into recharge. Let Rung take care of him. Yeah, that sounded really nice…

Someone tossed him against the wall, and his vision flickered. “Hey, what’s -” His vocalizer fizzled out. He didn’t remember Vortex doing anything to his throat. Weird. Teach him for not picking out a safeword. He giggled noiselessly.

Chains clanked. He thought he could pick out a third and fourth set of fans whirring. He knocked his helm against the wall, and his optic flickered back on for a brief second. Orange. Orange? Who was -

_Rung_.

He scrabbled against the wall, trying to get to his pedes. “Rrrrr-” His vocalizer caught and spat white noise. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Interrogate him.”  _Turmoil._

“Fine.”  _Vortex_ , he’s gonna  _kill_  Vortex, he’s gonna tear his fragging rotors from their housing and cut off his damn servos and pull out every single last one of his wires one at a time, he’s gonna make Vortex  _hurt if he touches Rung_.

“And quiet your damn toy.” A pede slammed against his helm and he sprawled back to the floor. 

His vision flickered back on and he looked up through bars of static at Rung. Rung’s optics were shuttered.  _Open your optics, I’m right here, look at me, we’ll get through this, everything will be fine, I promise._

“Is there a problem, Vortex?” A figure stepped into his line of sight.  _Move, frag you_. His plating crawled as a scraping sound filled the room.  _Move, I have to see, Rung you’ll be okay, just hang on, please._

“That’s what I thought. Vortex, step aside.” Whirl heard the sound of a gun cocking, and Vortex stepped over to stand beside him.

_Vortex_. Whirl looked up, trying to catch his optic, but the other helicopter was staring to the side.  _Vortex._  He heard someone whimper.  _Vor- Rung!_ His helm snapped back and,  _oh,_ there was Rung, still there, safe and sound, light of his spark, oh, he should remember that one. He’d tell it to him later, and see his optics light up the way they always did when Whirl said something ridiculously sappy.  _Light of his spark_. 

Turmoil reached out and drove Vortex’s shockrod into Rung’s chest plating.

Electricity crackled over Rung’s frame as he arched away, his vocalizer shorting out, and Whirl saw  _red_.

Turmoil was half-turned to see what the commotion was when Whirl slammed into him. Whirl tore the shockrod out of of Turmoil’s servo and shoved it against Turmoil’s throat tubing. 

Snarling, Turmoil shoved him away, bringing his gun out of subspace. “Stupid -” He cut off with a cry of pain as Vortex came up behind him and sliced his claws up Turmoil’s side plating, and Whirl grabbed the gun, leveled it at Turmoil’s helm, and pulled the trigger.

Turmoil’s frame crashed to the ground, sparking.

Whirl staggered away and looked up at Rung, his optic curving happily.

“Sa-a-a-aved you-u-u-u-u,” he stuttered, and he slumped against Rung’s hanging form and slipped to the ground, already in recharge.

 

* * *

 

“It’s been  _so long_  since you were last at the bar. You’ll have to come by later, okay? It’s on the house.”

“We’d love to.”

Whirl onlined, groaning groggily. His optic blinked on and Rung leaned into his field of vision. “You’re awake! Are you all right? Does anything hurt? Do you need me to call the doctor? Blurr, go get Ambulon!”

Whirl flailed his servo at Rung. “Hey,” he slurred. “Hey, there. Wait, shouldn’t you be in a medberth? Lie down, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

Rung laughed. “I’m fine, I just needed to have my breakers reset. You’re the one who needs rest.”

Ugh, bed rest. Although…. “Are you gonna dote on me?” Whirl leered.

“Absolutely.” Rung leaned in and kissed Whirl’s helm, and Whirl sighed into the touch.

“Sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

“Whirl.” Rung held Whirl’s helm between his servos and looked him in the optic. “You protected me  _perfectly_.” He crawled up onto the medberth and nestled against Whirl’s side. 

“Light of my spark,” Whirl muttered.

“Hmm?”

“I’ll tell ya later.” Whirl grinned and wrapped his arms around Rung.


End file.
